I love fast food so much that my feelings for it are probably illegal in Georgia. It's objectively disgusting, of course, but I truly love it. Give me a BK Double Stacker or a Big Mac or literally anything from Popeye's and I'm a happy (and gastrically-distressed) camper. But really, never has the tag for these articles been more apropos than with some of the mad science experiments these companies come up in their never-ending war over who can do more unspeakable things to nacho cheese. I don't fault someone for eating fast food, ever (that would be hypocrisy on a level that would stagger even the talking heads at Fox News), but I feel like the existence of each and every one of these items has to be the result of a dare taken WAY too far.

Doritos Locos Tacos — I swear to God I thought this was a joke the first time I saw an ad for it. Then, after I thought about it for a while, it started to make sense. See, the Doritos Locos Taco is the Caligulan orgy of the Pax Americana. Centuries from now, historians will look back at the Doritos Locos Taco and conclude that such decadence heralded the inevitable decline of our once-mighty society. Truly, they will surmise, we were brought low by our need to insert chemical-flavored nachos into every foodstuff. Well, that and the whole supply-side economics thing. But we both know its really the Doritos Locos Tacos.

Skyline Chili — I know I've done Chili before, but Skyline really deserves its own entry. It's basically gastrointestinal distress in a bun. Chili sucks enough when it's done "right," so just imagine how terrible it is when you serve a concoction that could best be described as Soylent Brown atop a probably-raccoon-meat tube that I know for a fact was chipped off of a giant frozen block of similar tubes earlier that week. Of all the things Cincinnati should damn well be embarassed about and begging forgiveness for (and it's a long list), Skyline Chili ranks right near the top. And yet, Skyline is this weird point of pride for that city. Even Cleveland thinks you're terrible, Cincinnati. You are the literal fucking worst.

Subway's Turkey, Bacon & Avocado — I'm pretty sure Subway got its name from the fact that every sandwich from there tastes like it was scavenged from next to a third rail, but this sandwich really wins points for the layers of its failure. I've already talked about my belief that there is some sort of demon-creature living inside every Subway toaster oven, so that's the bread. The turkey is pretty much your garden variety meat-like slimegasm, and the less said about it the better. The avocado is what really pushes it over the top, though. Look, I know what avocado tastes like, Subway. You can't fool me by mashing up a failed taxidermy experiment and flavoring/coloring it with peat moss. And the bacon...man, I just feel bad for the bacon. It didn't ask for this. It never really did anything wrong. It just fell in with a bad crowd, and needs the pig product equivalent of Edward James Olmos to unlock its inner potential. I think this entry got away from me about two sentences ago, so let's just move on.

McGriddles — A recurring theme throughout this entire list is "things that sounded really delicious when you were high at 3 AM," and the McGriddle is kind of the ultimate exemplar of that principle. I'm sure that after enough bong hits to incapacitate Tommy Chong, coming up with "fuck it, let's just wrap the syruplogged pancakes around the breakfast sandwich" made one extremely hungry McDonald's exec feel like the guy who first conceived of the Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich, but in the cold light of day, everyone except that guy would look at that idea and go "what the fuck was I thinking? That was even worse than last year's post-Bonnaroo Eggplant Ice Cream fiasco!" That guy, though? He forged ahead to manifest his disgusting, pancake-sandwich destiny, and people fucking went for it, because this is America, dammit, and there is nothing too gross for us to eat if it's 7 AM and we haven't had our coffee yet.

The Double-Down — I wouldn't actually believe the Double-Down was real if I hadn't eaten one for myself. Also, my kidneys wouldn't creak when it rained and I would probably still have full vision in my left eye. Everything on this list is gross, but the Double-Down deserves special consideration for the fact that its the only food I've ever eaten where I could literally feel the years being subtracted from the end of my life. The Double-Down is the fast food equivalent of The Ring, only you have to live what little remains of your time on Earth with the knowledge that you watched the video knowing damn well the girl would crawl out of your TV and give you a massive heart attack.

7-11's Cheeseburger Big Bite — If you're not familiar with the Cheeseburger Big Bite, pretty much just take a hamburger, roll it up into a six-inch long cylinder, somehow infuse it with molten American cheese (I have no idea how this process was accomplished, but I feel like it would involve an enormous syringe and the lamentations of the innocent), and slap it on the most disgusting rotating grill you can imagine for like six hours. Full disclosure: I have eaten A LOT of these things in my life — when I would come home from my old job around 11 PM, 7-11 was the only place still open. Eating these things practically every night was like being trapped in a loveless marriage, only with more problematic poop habits.

Burger King's Satisfries — I am distinctly unsatisfried. They are decidedly unsatisfrying. I am filled with dissatisfraction. They are doubtless the cause of much satisfriction in the workplaces and homes of America. They force me to contemplate the satisfrailty of the human condition. Ok, I think we're done here.

Chipotle Sour Cream — What the fuck is this shit and why is it the consistency of soup? When you told me your shit was "locally-sourced" I didn't think you meant the sour cream was gleaned from the drain run-off in the alley behind the fucking store. If you couldn't theoretically spear a giant chunk of your sour cream with a fork, you done fucked up sour cream.

Balogna — This isn't technically fast food, but I don't care; it's the Taco Bell of deli meats, and that's close enough for me. Anyway, my Balogna has a first name, it's V-O-M-I-T. My girlfriend's parents bought high-class Balogna once (it exists, apparently) — you knew it was fancy because it had an Italian name and everything. Spirited attempt, Italians, but that's like throwing a bag of glitter at a used litter box. Not even the mighty culinary powers of Italy can make Balogna palatable.

Ham Salad — Again, not technically fast food, but since it's significantly more disgusting than anything else on this list, we're going with it. I've yet to hear a satisfactory explanation for why Ham Salad exists. Who first looked at a perfectly good ham and thought, "this would be greatly improved by mayonnaise and joylessness"? I have no problem with mayonnaise, but there are limits to what mayonnaise is capable of. Ham Salad exists somewhere over that mayo event horizon, where Sam Neill has no eyes and where you don't need taste buds to throw up. Ham Salad is the only thing in the world that could actually make me want to keep Kosher. I hate all the foods I list in these articles, but this is one of the very few that actually makes me question the existence of God.